To Burn
by thedreamsingray
Summary: The burning is what kept them coming back - her for the numbness, him for the feeling. Unfortunately, burns leave scars. Set during the End saga. Raven/Slade.
1. Chapter 1: Burn

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.**

**a/n: I'm back! You guys must think I'm such a nerd. But I've learned that writing FF is just as addicting as reading them, so yes, I am a nerd.**

**This is a different take on 'The End' storyline (does it make it AU?). It will be kept in canon with the TV show for the most part, it's just extra background and adding stuff "behind the scenes".**

**This will be much darker than _The Now_, and will probably not feature as much 'redeemed Slade'; instead, more of the TV-canon one. This is in part due to the fact the End has not happened _before _the story started, which makes the characters still in mid-development. Raven is her first-to-third season self, and so is Slade.**_  
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**Fair warning: the ending will not be happy.**

**Reviews, sharing, etc., as always, are very much appreciated.**

_burn (3): to feel heat or a physiologically similar sensation; feel pain from or as if from a fire_

_Chapter One: Burn_

Flaming. Scorching.

Burning.

Red, puckered flesh. How did it disappear so quickly? It had been so painful, so piercing, only an hour go. Her flesh was smooth now, with no evidence of the attack she'd suffered. And Raven was grateful - if there had been even one reminder of the Prophecy, well...

Let's just say it was a good thing there wasn't.

But even that wasn't true.

_What you have concealed, you shall become!_

Raven's hands shook on the scissors, snipping her hair at an odd angle. Damn.

That's right. God damn. God damn him. If she'd hated Slade before, then this kind of rage had no name. God damn, god damn, god _freaking_ damn.

Timid gasped at the use of such foul jargon. Rage, on the other hand, snickered.

Snip.

_The message will be delivered._

Oh, message received loud and clear. Slade needn't worry about that.

Snip.

_Your destiny shall be fulfilled._

Snip.

Snip.

Snip.

Raven looked at herself in the mirror. She supposed she looked as normal as could be - as normal as a half demon could, anyway.

_"No!"_

_Yes._

Flexing open her palms, Raven searched for any trace of the inscriptions.

Nope. Pale and lined as ever.

Raven was no fortune teller, but sometimes she read palms, yet never had the courage to read her own. The idea of the mark of Scath carving it's way through the very indents that foretold her future seemed appropriate.

_Behold, the world you are destined to create._

Burning, burning, so much fire and lava everywhere. Was Raven truly destined to bring that much misery?

Evidently so, especially in Slade's mind.

Ah, Slade. The big Bad wolf, chasing after Little Blue Riding Hood. Poor thing didn't know what hit her.

_This is the future. Your future._

Screw the future. Screw him. Screw him and Trigon. Screw the Prophecy. Screw everything.

Unbidden, Raven's fingers stroked her forearm. Where he first touched her. When it began.

_This will come to pass. I will make sure of it._

Something was wrong.

There was a sharp banging on her door, causing Raven to twist her head in alarm. When she answered, Raven was met with a trail of cardboard arrows, all pointing in the direction of the main room.

Raven wasn't an idiot. She knew her team was going to spring some other party on her, this time because they pitied her. Her nails dug in the metal of her doorframe, not knowing what to feel. Hell, she felt too _much_, and it took everything in her power to keep it under control. This never happened to her.

Still, she followed the trail, and was promptly blinded by lights and confetti upon entering the Titan's living room. There all her friends were, completely ignorant of what was to transpire.

"Um...surprise?" Beast Boy said in his usual Beast Boy fashion.

Cyborg made a sheepish face. "Look, we know you didn't want a party, but after...today..."

"We thought you might reconsider," Starfire finished for her friend, a kind smile playing on her lips.

Well, shit.

Beast Boy scooted up to the front of the group, lifting an energetic finger. "You may not like your birthday, but we're all glad you were born!"

All the Titan's jaws dropped. Beast Boy beamed unapologetically up at her.

Shit.

Screw the universe for making her love them so.

"We're going to need ice cream."

All of Raven's family lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Comin' right up!"

"I'll cut the cake!"

"And I shall fetch the Throknarr!"

Robin was the only one who seemed unappeased by Raven's sudden change in opinion, his smile slipping almost automatically from his face as Raven made her way down the steps. "You sure you're okay?"

The air whizzed behind her. That was probably Beast Boy with the ice cream. She looked. She was right.

"I will be."

Robin's mouth grew tight. "When you told me about your destiny...when something bad was supposed to happen - " His mask-eyes curved in sadness. "I guess it did. I'm sorry I couldn't stop it."

Ah, Robin. Always playing the leader, even when it came to matters of Fate and Destiny.

What bitches they were.

Raven looks at him, long and hard, before dropping her gaze. "No one could."

Robin punches his fist, talks about finding Slade, reassured her that she's safe. To the side, their teammates are gorging on cake and ice cream, unaware of the seriousness of the situation.

"You're here with friends," Robin finished, smiling and touching her shoulder. "It's over."

_You're going to destroy the world, Raven._

His voice, his whisper, his words traced themselves up and down, up and down Raven's spine. On cue, she looked at her palms - at the thought of him, they've suddenly blazed scarlet, alight with inscriptions.

Feelings were pushing, swollen and monstrous, inside of her. It was the worst thing she'd ever felt.

"No," Raven murmured, swallowing slightly as she remembered the burn, "This was just the beginning."

.

A thousand miles below the Titans, there was Slade.

"The first task is complete," Pause. "_Master._" He tacked the last part on just for good measure. Christ, he hated being at the whim of another being, but Slade knew what his priorities were.

Who would have guessed the first one would have been Raven.

For the most part, he'd enjoyed their rooftop randevú. Raven had never been so afraid of him before - to see _her_ at his mercy was refreshing. Any day a Titan suffered was a good day for him.

Yet there was something off about it all, something he would never admit aloud.

"The message has been sent."

Yes, it damn well had been. He'd chased the girl all over the city to burn her.

"The inscriptions are in place."

Burns.

What Raven might have not known was that Slade had felt the burn, too. Fire had spilled from his bone-body, searing her young flesh - and Slade had felt the heat. It hadn't been lasting; disappearing immediately after he stopped touching her. It was fleeting, brief. Nothing.

But at the same time, it wasn't.

"She knows what she must do."

It was the burn that had prompted him to touch her again, holding her over the End. The pain traveled up his skeletal hands, up his arms, even making his good eye water.

And he never wanted it to stop.

You see, Slade couldn't feel anything without flesh and blood. He might have been able to walk and talk, but the man was as good as the crumbling, dry skeleton beneath the armour.

The burn, however, changed that.

"The Prophecy will be fulfilled."

Slade knew he must never touch her again. Good things come to those who wait. He would be able to feel again, one day.

Trigon is laughing, the sound making the cavern quake and crumble around Slade. He dug his fist into the dirt, not moving, attempting to rid himself of the memory of the burn.


	2. Chapter 2: Wound

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans.**

**a/n: This is the shortest chapter I've ever written, but I feel like I'm setting the stage nicely and it just felt right, so hey. Short and sweet.**

**Again, just a reminder that this FF will be mostly "behind the scenes" stuff that will fit in canon. Still a romance. I've got it covered (hopefully).**

**Will update soon to make up for this teeny chapter.**

**Reviews, sharing, etc. are greatly appreciated.**

_wound (1): an injury to living tissue caused by a cut, blow, or other impact, typically one in which the skin is cut or broken_

_Chapter Two: Wound_

Days passed. The birthday cake was gradually nibbled away at (Raven suspected Cyborg and Silkie as the main culprits), the confetti was vacuumed from the floor (who knew they owned a vacuum?), and her presents were beginning to collect dust at the corner of her room (a gothic video game from Cyborg and Beast Boy, a trashy romance novel from Starfire, and a meditation DVD box set from Robin).

Her birthday had passed.

But the Prophecy was yet to come.

"Um, Rae?"

Cyborg was giving her a meaningful look from the sofa.

"What?"

"That's the third aspirin you've taken today."

Diligently, Raven swallowed another mouthful of water, then twisted the aspirin's bottle cap back on. "And?"

Cyborg's gaze widened, then narrowed. "It just doesn't seem healthy, Rae."

Of course it wasn't healthy. Intelligence had been screaming at her during the ten minutes she contemplated taking the third pill, when she was just staring at the bottle.

But Raven needed this. She needed the damn headache to go away. She needed to stop feeling so afraid. She needed to stop feeling a lot of things.

Most of all, she needed to stop thinking about him.

Robin was away, off on some quest to learn martial arts or something. This left Starfire moping around and Beast Boy would mysteriously vanish from time to time; hence, Cyborg on the couch, partner-less in his video game.

And Raven?

Smothering her feelings was becoming a 24/7 ordeal. While it had been difficult when she was a child, when she was restless and stupefied at the idea of pacifism, it was never this _intense._ Raven felt everything at once: hope, anger, disappointment...

Fear.

Though she would never admit it, Slade had _terrified_ her during their tryst. Slade had always been Robin's problem, Robin's struggle - now, she understood why her leader was so dead set on capturing the man. He went beyond the limits of evil - he was darkness, darkness in a human body.

No wonder her father had saved him. Raven didn't fully understand the in's and out's of the Prophecy, but she did know one thing: Trigon sure could pick his men. Out of every dead soul...

Her forearm began to itch.

Absent-mindedly, she scratched it, only for the sensation to grow worse. Alarmed, Raven looked down to inspect it, and found an inscription glowing through the fabric of her sleeve, burning her skin.

Shit.

Raven wrapped a hand around the mark, grimacing.

_What you have concealed, you shall become._

"Raven, are you listenin' to me?"

Cyborg had paused his game to throw her an exasperated look.

In response, Raven gave him a withering glare, muttered something about a nap, and retreated back to her room, stretching her legs as far as they would go when she walked.

.

Slade was, at the moment, bored. It wasn't often the man felt so - he was _Slade_, after all. The fiercest criminal in Jump City. The number one enemy of the Teen Titans. Now, the servant of one of the most powerful beings in the universe.

Usually, it all kept him fairly occupied. Slade was a man who liked to keep busy.

But Trigon was wrecking havoc somewhere, gathering strength for the Prophecy's fulfillment, and his next assignment wouldn't be doled out until Trigon finished destroying...whatever it was he was destroying. This left Slade with a lot of time on his hands.

_Tick, tock, Raven. Time's running out._

For the girl, maybe. But for Slade, time was agonizing. He could neither sleep nor eat, drink nor breathe - in almost every way, Slade was dead. There was no blood, no skin, no organs; nothing that would even make him anatomically human.

Well, except for his eye.

The eye was the only true reminder of Slade's humanity: it pulsed, it watered, it focused and unfocused. How it operated without nerves and flesh, Slade would never know. And, if he was being honest, he didn't give a damn. It was all he had left - who cared what made it functional, made it alive?

_Look at it._

Slade surveyed the cavern around him. It was dark, dank, quiet -

_Drink it in._

Dead.

He spent most of his time here, practicing with the demons and punching rocks. If he was feeling particularly sadistic, Slade would remove his armor and simply look at his bones - it gave him reason, gave him fuel to keep going. To remember why he was doing this.

_This will come to pass._

Slade dragged a hand over his mask, as if he still had a face under it.

_I will make sure of it._

Perhaps he'd gone overboard with the girl. No doubt Robin had the wrong impression by now. They might think he was in love with her, or something equally ridiculous. Unless Raven told them, what reasons could they possibly construe for his return?

_No! I won't do it!_

His shoulders shook when he chuckled. He had to give Raven credit for her complete, utter denial. The girl had blatantly refused to believe she had any part in the Prophecy until he was holding her over the flaming Earth.

Burning. Burning against her skin, burns through his bones...

He flexed his fingers. Christ, he missed feeling things. Skin, paper, wood, plastic; even pain. Anything was better than this numbness.

Actually, scratch that. Numbness constituted the lack of feeling.

But for Slade, there was no _lacking_. There was _nothing._

_Hello, birthday girl._

Raven was his salvation. Getting her to comply to her part in the Prophecy was critical to him getting his life back. Hell, he ought to follow her, make sure she was safe until the time came.

Slade straightened. Yes, he supposed he should keep tabs on the girl.

After all, she was led by Robin. God only knew what kind of reckless, justice-hungry situations the boy would lead her into.

And Slade wasn't working for God.


	3. Chapter 3: Sore

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.**

**a/n: I always have fun setting the tone for a story. Especially since this is an interesting concept for me - interweaving another storyline within canon. Hopefully I've done a decent job.**

**Okay, so I've done some research, and I can't figure out whether "The Quest" comes before or after "Birthmark". The Internet is failing me (some sites show "Quest" as episode 43, some as episode 41). So whatever. Here's to thinking "The Quest" is episode 43. Hurray.**

**Reviews, sharing, etc. are greatly appreciated.**

_sore (noun): a raw or painful place on the body_

_Chapter Three: Sore_

If Raven was worried about the Prophecy, she didn't show it. She was the master of denial - after all, how else could one smother emotions? Raven had, quite literally, had to lie to herself in order to maintain her powers.

Unfortunately, denial only went so far. Her feelings were rotating like a pulsating, ugly monster. Each of her emotions were taking a turn to scream at her for the disruption of calm. Timid cried incessantly. Brave constantly fantasized about kicking Slade in the groin. Happy had grown dull and weak. Lazy demanded Raven search for answers. Intelligence told them all to shut up. Rage laughed at it all.

And Passion?

_Ready for your present?_

Passion was intrigued.

Instead of the nap she professed to Cyborg, Raven elected to phase out of the Tower and head into Jump City, hoping the bustle would distract her. Clearly, peace and quiet only gave the feelings idle time to fester and smash themselves repeatedly against her cranium. Perhaps the loud, noisy, crowded city would drown out the turmoil within her.

_We're not in Raven's home._

_Oh definitely, Raven,_ choked Rage, howling with laughter. _While we're at it, why don't we visit the building where he ripped your clothes off and was about ten seconds away from fuc -_

_We're in her head._

Intelligence smacked Rage upside the head and Brave tackled the red-hooded emotion down, all of which only made Raven's forehead throb harder. Evidently, the third aspirin had been a cruel joke, considering it did nothing to silence the ruckus in her skull.

_And I want you out._

She landed on the dockside, taking care to avoid the curious stares of teenage girls on bikes and jogging men with their dogs. Thank God Raven was not the most popular of the Titans.

But where was she to go?

"Azarath, Mentrion..." Raven muttered under her breath.

Zinthos.

So she let her feet take her downtown, past fast-food chains and department stores, and did her best to take in the hustle and bustle of Jump City. Raven felt a swell of joy, anger, determination, and sadness from those around her - the citizens she protected every day. They were able to live their lives in safety, in peace, because of the Titans.

The _least_ they could do for her was to help her numb the burn of her own feelings.

Suddenly, she heard bells. Alarmed, Raven looked up, and noticed her feet had taken her to a cathedral.

_Their_ cathedral.

Warning tape was wound around the entrance, the cathedral no doubt undergoing renovations after what _he'd_ done to it. A tiny, moralistic piece of Raven felt guilty about having a hand in the wreckage of something holy. After all, she _had_ been raised in Azarath - the place was the _epitome_ of religious activity. Raven supposed her decision to seek shelter in the cathedral had been a subconscious manifestation of this upbringing; it was a comforting thought, a reminder she had not lost all ties with her old home._  
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Pushing aside the yellow tape, Raven phased through the door, only to be met with dust and darkness. The stained-glass window, although beautiful, provided only minimal lighting of the wreckage. Pews were overturned, pushed aside, black with soot at certain angles. A dark, singed line split the floor - it was where he'd cornered her, where he cut her off from Robin.

_It's just you and me now, kid._

Fire. Burning.

Raven clutched her head and shook it. Stop. She needed to stop.

"I'm not afraid of you," she muttered to the blackness. "I'm not afraid of you."

What a poor liar she was.

_What you have concealed, you shall become!_

The skin of her arms began to itch.

.

From the darkness, Slade watched her. Raven had left the Tower, making his self-appointed position as her sentinel that much easier. The Titans never seemed to catch him, even while he was alive - Slade could slip in and out of the shadows, undetected, and leave no trace of his existence. He was the master of stealth, master of deception, ruler of the night.

A shame he had died, really. Slade had been so good at being evil. It was a God-given talent.

He almost laughed aloud when the girl had decided to go into that particular place. Such memories the two shared there. Perhaps Raven was feeling nostalgic?

_You're making this much more difficult than it needs to be._

Or maybe not.

It was clear the girl was distraught. Raven looked worn, pale - spent. If he had any heart to spare, Slade might have felt guilty.

He didn't.

But that didn't mean Slade couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong with this, with everything. He was not a man of remorse or sorrow, yet there was a gnawing, nagging emotion the man couldn't place ever since...

Ever since the rooftop. Ever since he'd touched her. Ever since they burned.

Temptation welled within Slade; his fingers clenched themselves into a fist. No. He wouldn't be so weak as to touch her once more, just for a poor imitation of physical sensation. He could wait for his own flesh, his own nerves. He would wait.

Just to be safe, Slade clasped his hands behind his back. The man had an extreme level of patience, yet when it came to _her_, that patience seemed to wear thin fairly fast. Slade _had _gone a little overboard when placing the inscriptions. Even he could admit that.

More than once, Slade seriously contemplated exactly _why_ he was so fixated on a group of hormonal, bickering teenagers. He was a grown man, for crying out loud. He had better things to do than fester about the Titans - which, incidentally, was what he spent a good portion of his time doing. No doubt law enforcement thought him a twisted, perverted individual, one who kidnapped and abused teenagers for his own purposes.

They were only half right.

Slade had truly believed he would've molded Robin into his prodigy - the two were so similar in so many ways, except for one: Robin was dedicated to his friends, whereas Slade was dedicated to himself. The plan had been a failure before it had even began.

Terra had been somewhat out of spite. Slade had learned his lesson by then that the core Titans would not betray one another - why not have a new Titan betray them all instead? The girl was so pathetically desperate, she probably would have sold herself to him if that meant controlling her powers. She'd been so easy to steal, to transform -

Sadly, she'd been in love with the changeling. Out of all the Titans, she'd decided to stab him in the back for a green, irritating blemish that could barely count to five. It was insulting, really, when he thought about it.

Of course, all the Jump City police heard from _those_ stories were 'blackmail' and 'abuse'. Go figure.

But Raven?

At the moment, she was grasping her head, looking unhappy as ever. Slade truly _had_ been surprised when Trigon had told him of Raven's destiny. Of all of the Titans, she always seemed the most detached, the darkest piece of good on their team. To be honest, Slade had expected the girl to leave the team at one point or another.

Never had he imagined she was the most important of them all. Raven's safety was key - if anything happened to her, no doubt Trigon would be furious. Not to mention Slade wouldn't get his reward.

All in all, the girl's safety was a top priority.

Suddenly, she snapped her head up and looked around.

"Who's there?" she demanded, eyes wide.

From the shadows, Slade had to hold back laughter.

Raven whirled around, searching. "I know you're in here!"

"Do you?" Slade muttered to himself, knowing she had no chance in hell of hearing.

Still, sensing him scared her off, and Raven projected herself out of the cathedral.

Well, damn. He had to go back to the Tower, then. Robin was away at the moment, but still - Slade didn't like to lose track of his investments.

.

Raven had sensed someone in the cathedral with her - God only knew what it was, but right now, she wasn't taking chances. Heaven forbid Trigon had sent some demon to look after her.

_Slade was _really _into touching you, _Passion remarked for the thousandth time. _Wasn't he?_

_"Don't push it," _Raven ordered the purple emoticlone sternly. _"What he did was unacceptable."_

_Speak for yourself, _Passion shimmied her shoulders. _I've always thought Slade was kind of hot._

_"Quiet."_

Jesus, just thinking about him was bringing the burn back. Raven swore she saw a thin plume of smoke rise from the inscriptions - right now, there was one below her elbow. Hastily, she swatted it, as if it were a welt or a bug bite, in hopes the thing would fade. It didn't.

Screw Slade.

_I...I think I like that idea,_ Passion decided carefully. _I'm down._

Raven didn't even dignify that remark with an answer.

Clearly, leaving the Tower had been a mistake. Raven elected to find her friends, maybe even tell them about the certainty that she was being followed. To her relief, the mark had faded by the time she reached the Tower.

They weren't in the living room, nor were they working out. A small speck of worry filtered through Raven's emotional buffer, until she heard laughter coming from the garage.

Whatever explanatory sentence she'd construed about her follower, about her emotions, about the burn, died at the sight of three Robin imposters playing with the R-cycle.

"Well this is just disturbing," Raven observed dryly, watching Cyborg make engine noises on their leader's mode of transportation.

Starfire, who'd unleashed a grappling hook, swung over to her. "Disturbing yet magnificent! Join us! I never knew wearing a cape could be so much fun! It is wonderful to be Robin!"

Raven had to take a step back, for Starfire had jammed herself into her face just as Cyborg waddled over with the R-cycle.

"Yeah!" he agreed, eyes wide behind Robin's trademark mask. "He's got all the best stuff!"

What was she here for again? Something about a stalker? Something about Slade?

"Uh," Raven managed, looking between the two fake Robins. "Right."

Beast Boy (no doubt the instigator of this hideous trend) popped in front of them.

"C'mon!" He squared his hands on his hips, which, Raven noted, was not a very Robin-like move, "Haven't you always wondered what it would be like to be Robin? You know you want to try it."

From the sides, Starfire and Cyborg smiled encouragingly.

No, Raven did not want to try it. She wanted to get to the bottom of who was following her, learn more about the Prophecy, and rid herself of any thoughts of Slade or the burn.

_And no matter what you wish, no matter where you go, no matter how you squirm, there's nothing you can do to stop it._

On the outside, Raven rose a brow. Perhaps this would be a good idea. After all, what was more mind-numbing than playing make-believe?


	4. Chapter 4: Blister

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.**

**a/n: It's been forever since I've updated this story. I've been reading a really good Slade/Raven fic, and it puts my writing to shame. If any of you guys want to read it, it's here on F. , and I'll send you the link.**

**I'm going to go to the Prophecy after this. There's a part in the episode where Raven tells Robin that she "hasn't been able to meditate". I took that context and ran with it.**

**P.S. This chapter takes place during the episode "Cyborg the Barbarian".**

**Ugh, I love these two so much. It's really embarrassing. **

**Not my best chapter, but please review, share, etc. Story will get better, I promise.**

_blister (1): a small bubble on the skin filled with serum and caused by friction, burning, or other damage_

_Chapter Four: Blister_

"This is ridiculous," Raven snarled, desperately searching through her books. Cyborg had, for whatever reason, vanished into thin air that morning right before their very eyes. Robin had immediately ordered Raven to go through her spell books and figure out a way to find him.

Unfortunately, Raven wasn't having much luck. Hell, the most she'd sensed from whatever had taken her teammate was that it was from the past. But how long ago and where remained a mystery.

_Crapola,_ said Lazy. _All this studying is making my brain hurt._

_It's to save Cyborg!_ Intelligence - who was on edge since the answer to bringing him back seemed to be nowhere - gawked at her sister.

_"Quiet, all of you,"_ Raven demanded testily, rubbing her temples. God, what was happening to the world? First, the birthday incident. Robin leaving, then coming back in a considerably better mood than he'd _ever_ been in. Someone was following her. Now, the Cyborg fiasco.

It was times like these Raven _really_ questioned why her mother hadn't drowned her at birth. It certainly would have been far more simple than dealing with this mess called life.

_Stop it,_ she scolded herself. _You're just on edge. Meditate._

Meditating was probably the best idea. Raven tossed aside a particularly large volume of spells, smoothing out her bed sheets.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos," she chanted, enjoying the familiarity of the words. Yes, this was better.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

Raven was in the Nevermore now, surrounded by nothing but grey rock and silence. It was her place of peace, her place of tranquility. Her emotions were strangely absent.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

Something was off. Raven couldn't place it, but a strange, horrid feeling was tiptoeing across her chest.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

She coughed.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

Smoke tainted Raven's senses, overwhelming and bitter.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

_Raven?_ Timid whispered, fear tainting her tone.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

_There's someone here._

Raven's eyes flew open, and he was there, the Nevermore melting into flames.

.

Slade had been hiding in the shadows, invisible to her. Raven had been too busy about the Cyborg disaster of the morning (which, even Slade could admit, was bizarre) to notice his presence. Her room was like a mausoleum, anyway - if he'd simply pretended to be an artifact of some sort, she'd probably never notice.

Ha, ha.

Since he was in the Tower, Slade was sorely tempted to check on the other Titans. How was Robin? Still loyal, still foolish? How was Starfire? Still naive? How was Beast Boy? Still an idiot?

Well, he couldn't check on Cyborg. He was somewhere deep in the past, summoned by a witchcraft Slade knew Trigon wasn't a part of. How the hell he knew, Slade would never understand, but his powers had seemed to extend to anything of magic. For example, he knew the chest under Raven's bed contained the soul of an imprisoned dragon.

Wonder what the story behind _that_ one was.

She was meditating. Slade chuckled slightly. Raven knew someone was watching her - how could she open herself up to be so vulnerable, so easy? Clearly, this job was going to be far too easy.

The flesh of her neck, just above her turtleneck, was pallid in the darkness.

Temptation itched through him.

No, no. Slade narrowed his eye. He would not touch her again. Not for the burn.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos," said Raven, shifting her leg the slightest bit and revealing the skin of her inner thigh.

Something very male and very resigned reverberated through Slade. Jesus Christ, why didn't her uniform involve, you know, pants? Sweatpants? Slade felt sick and fascinated at the very same time. How had this woman-child slipped his notice while he was alive, _again?_ It wasn't like opportunities to admire her weren't present during his life.

No, he'd been too focused on _world domination_ or _control_ or _evil._ Why hadn't he, just once, taken the time to _look?_ Not that he would have done anything - Slade wasn't a pervert - but for crying out loud, he was a _man._ Any _other_ man would've jumped at the chance to view such a lithe, young thing.

Slade couldn't help but feel that Raven, overall, was a simply lost opportunity.

Well, he could make up for lost time. Why not put the fear of God (or in this case, Trigon) in her? Slade'd always relished the pain of his enemies, male or female. Here was a perfect opportunity to drive the message home, just a little more. Perhaps he would even help her with this Cyborg problem. A stressed Gem did nothing for him.

Gathering his powers, Slade dove himself into her mind, coloring her vision into a nightmare.

.

Fire.

Lava.

Destruction.

Burning.

Raven could feel the heat off the flames, scorching her skin. Sweat pooled into the corners of her eyes, sliding down her face like salty rain. Desperately, she searched around for any trace of the Nevermore, of her emoticlones.

"Happy?" she called out. "Brave? Timid?"

Well, if any of her personalities had caused this, she could bet it would be Rage.

Yet, at the same time, Raven had the sick feeling that it was none of the above.

"You seem to be having difficulties," a voice behind her observed. Whirling around, she saw him, cocking his head to the left.

Of course it was him. It was _always_ him.

Raven glared at Slade. "Leave me alone. Leave my _friends_ alone."

He laughed, and a gust of lava spewed in an arch behind him. "That's precious, Raven. But you know perfectly well that won't be the case."

Slade paused, then clasped his hands behind his back. "And for now, it's beside the point."

"What point?"

"Cyborg."

A stream of something cold trickled down Raven's spine. "You wouldn't - "

"No, it wasn't me." Another step closer. "Honestly, Raven, do you think I would waste my time with him? My message was for _you_. And _you _are all that matters."

Raven blinked. She was positive Slade hadn't meant it to sound that way, but it was still creepy.

Another step.

"Try locating his sonic cannon's frequency. He should be about five thousand years into the past, give or take."

Well, screw her.

_Whoa,_ Passion gawked. _You're so smart, Slade. I respect that. I respect that a lot._

_Actually, it's not a bad idea, _Intelligence was wide-eyed under her spectacles. Her expression promptly soured, realizing that the answer she'd been searching for was coming from the worst criminal in all of Jump City.

Skeptical, Raven narrowed her eyes. "Why are you helping him?"

His broad shoulders went up, then fell. "Not _him_, Raven. _You._"

Jesus, he was close. The burn was aching, pulsing beneath her skin, writhing under her clothes -

And God, it felt good.

She licked her lips, swallowing. What was going on?

"Why?"

Slade was directly in front of her. But he didn't answer.

Instead, his arm shot out and grabbed Raven's wrist, and her whole body was on fire, and it erased all her fears, all her worries, all her feelings in a flash of flame on flesh -

Raven gasped in cool, dark air. She was back in her bedroom, panting on the bed sheets. Sweat beaded and dripped down her forehead, the only reminder of the burns in her vision.

What the _hell_ had just happened?

_I...I think that's what sex is supposed to feel like, _Passion covered her mouth. _I mean, I've only imagined what it would be like, but I kind of thought it should be like fire - _

_Shut up, _Rage growled. _Or so help me, I will tear you apart and feed you to the ravens.__  
><em>

Passion huffed indignantly. _Raven, aren't you going to say anything?!_

But for once, Raven agreed with Rage. Passion was becoming far to fixated on _Slade_, of all people. She was sorely tempted to imprison the emotion altogether.

_Hey!_ Passion protested.

Raven ignored her. Instead, she fingered her wrist. She could almost feel the ghost of his fingertips, hard and heavy and scorching.

And God damn it all, it was the best she'd felt in a long, long time. The burn was a great and terrible distraction, but a distraction all the same; one that worked.

"Shit," Raven whispered to no one in particular.

Later, she would find that Slade's suggestion worked. Later, she would find that the Titans had no idea where she'd gotten the idea from.

Later, she still remembered the burn.

.

Slade knew he'd made a mistake the second he materialized back into the world.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glaring at the dark rock beneath his feet.

He'd broken his vow. He wasn't supposed to touch her.

Too bad it felt too damn good. The opportunity to feel had been too much of a temptation; really, Slade was ashamed of himself. At what point did he lose the patience he'd always scolded Robin for lacking?

Raven would know, now, that there was something off. She wasn't an idiot, not like Starfire or the shapeshifter. No, Raven was smart. She would do her best to evade him, more than ever.

"Shit," he said again, crouching on the ground. Dragging one hand along the earth, Slade hoped to feel a spark of something, anything.

Nope. Still dead. Rest in peace. God bless.

Slade was most certainly not resting, and he wasn't at peace. And he was fairly certain God would never bless him.

That damn girl. Who would have known that, out of all the Titans, Raven would have been the one he valued most?

There was no going back. Slade had a taste of her, now, of the delicious flame between their contact. He had to keep her safe anyway. What harm would a little touch do, just every once in a while?

Again, something twisted uncomfortably in his non-existent stomach.

His fingers flexed, and Slade could hear his bones clank against the interior of the armor.

_Dear God,_ he thought tiredly. _May the end of the world come soon._


	5. Chapter 5: Cut

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.**

**a/n: Ugh, I just wanted to get a chapter up. I know it's kind of short - I think this piece in general has shorter chapters. I don't know, just always works out that way.**

**This one takes place over "Employee of the Month" and "Troq", and all the background in between.**

**Speaking of "Employee", that episode was literally the scariest thing to me as a child. Newfu gave me nightmares. I used to love tofu, Jesus Christ. Motherf*cking Cartoon Network.**

**Prophecy is coming soon...**

**Reviews, sharing, etc. are greatly appreciated.**

_cut (verb): make an opening, incision, or wound in (something) with a sharp-edged tool or object._

_Chapter Five: Cut_

The dreams didn't stop.

Raven felt that it was clichéd, really. Prophetic dreams? Haunting nightmares? So overused in the villain handbook. Really, why didn't Slade post flyers like any other homeless asshole in Jump City? _'The end is coming! We're all gonna die!'_

Obviously, Slade didn't get 'The End of the World Handbook'. Sure, he fulfilled a few tropes. Like:

Fire. There was one.

Demonic affiliation. That was two.

He'd even damsel-in-distressed her. What the actual hell. (By the way, three.)

But there were some rules he'd broken, too.

Such as:

Voluntary touching. One.

Helping her. Two.

Last, and most definitely the least, making her feel good.

Jesus Mary Joseph, hadn't Raven _wished_ for feelings, not too long ago? Hadn't she wished to tap into fear, pain, anger, anything that would make her feel a little more human, and _not_ worry about tearing the ground open?

But _no_, it didn't matter now. Feel free to cry anytime. Apparently, the ground's gonna open up anyway. Thanks, Trigon.

Days passed.

The first few dreams, she argued with him.

"I heard Beast Boy has recently joined the workforce."

Hands clasped behind his back, head to the left, world crumbling around him.

_That's right, pervert,_ growled Brave. _Just try touching us again._

"Wow, Slade," Raven shot back, holding back a smoke-filled cough. "Getting bored working for my father? Do you have to constantly spy on my friends to keep yourself entertained?"

"It is simply amusing," Slade retorted smoothly, effortlessly. "Your little _friend_ needs to sort out his priorities. Haven't you told them yet? About what the world is going to look like?"

Raven ground her teeth, dodging a flaming comet. "No."

"Pity. He seems so fixated on material possessions as of late. Tell me, Raven, where do you think he will go? Greed, after all, is a sin."

Emotions boiling, Raven's expression twisted. "_You_ would know all about _that_ one, wouldn't you?"

Laughter, deep and dark and in harmony with the bursts of lava around them.

When bantering didn't work, she began running.

"You know," he mentioned during one of their chases, as Raven ducked into an alleyway, "Robin's determination has always been an admirable - albeit tiresome - trait. It seems as if it has rubbed off on you."

Closer. He was closer. Raven scampered away from his large frame, leaping onto charred pieces of concrete and hiding behind dusty, decaying structures.

He always found her.

In the last dream, she simply was in denial.

"I won't do it," Raven repeated, over and over again. She no longer ran, but whatever she could to evade close proximity with Slade. God forbid he tried touching her again. She didn't know what it meant for him, or why he did it, but whatever he garnered from pressing his fingers against her skin must have been pleasant, because he was constantly too close, too intimate. Raven could taste his temptation in the hot, burning air.

Lightning split the sky, inciting a shower of ash and brimstone to rain upon them. Raven threw up a black shield, but Slade materialized directly behind her, so she had to scramble back, back to an edge of the rooftop they were on.

They were always on rooftops.

"Time is short." Slade drawled, not looking the least bit worried. The copper half of his mask reflected the flames around them. "I'm growing impatient, Raven. My message must be delivered."

Her lips drew up in a grimace. "You already did."_  
><em>

On cue, the runes lit up, as if they were happy to see him - their creator, their father.

"My dear girl," he chuckled, broad shoulders moving up and down. "You truly_ are_ a delight. I must confess, I wish I had seen the potential for an apprentice sooner."

Raven had half a mind to spit at his feet. "I _never _would have joined you!"

Slade was only a yard away. She could trace the outline of his chest, even underneath the billows of smoke.

"Temper, Raven," Slade put his fingers to his chin, a habitual gesture. "That would the first thing we worked on."

"This won't happen, Slade. I'm not going to do this."

"Your tendency towards denial, second. Emotional suppression doesn't suit you at all, my dear."

Raven felt her gaze go flinty. "You don't know _anything_ about me, or my powers."_  
><em>

Two steps closer. "On the contrary Raven, I know _everything._"

Despite the wake of the flames, despite the agony of the lava around her, a cold shiver shook Raven's shoulders.

Slade was smiling; she could hear it in his voice. "Do you know how _long_ Trigon spent informing me about you? All your darkest desires, all your most precious secrets? About your mother? About Azarath? About the amount of _energy_ it takes for you to suppress your feelings?"

Their feet were flush against one another. Slade was smoking, literally. Raven could barely breathe, yet she was too frightened to move - a rare occasion, for her.

"Believe me," he hissed, leaning in closer, smelling of charcoal, "No matter who you meet, no matter who you confide in, I will _always_ know _everything_ about you."

They were both silent, then. They were both so close to one another; heat was pinching Raven's cheeks. Or was it blush? Was it both?

Temptation. Temptation, crooning, dancing, singeing the air between them with promises of numbness and feeling.

_Do it, _Passion whimpered, wriggling at the tension. _He's so friggin' close, might as well. You bought the ticket, now take the damn ride._

Raven's fingers curled, one by one, into a fist.

"I hate you," she muttered, looking at him square in the eye.

Slade's elbow shifted, just the slightest bit.

"_Good,_" he sneered, and grasped her forearms, lifting her tiny body off the ground. The numbness was beautiful, refreshing, so painless compared to the endless fear and anguish and guilt she felt about The Prophecy, and the burn was like licking a white-hot iron but _damn_ it felt so free, and before Raven knew it, she was clinging desperately to the man she so hated, she so loathed, hoping to disintegrate...

.

...felt everything, so hot, so much anguish, and Slade clutched her closer, wanting more of this heat shooting up his bones, probably frying whatever human nerves he had left, but who cared, it was like breathing after being underwater for too long, seeing the sun after years of captivity, he felt something, Slade was _feeling _something, and his arms clenched her arms 'till she groaned in agony -

"_No!_"

A shock of black energy spiked between them, casting her away from him. God damn it.

"Stop it!" Raven spat, her voice a few octaves higher than that usual gravely monotone. "Why do you keep doing that?!"

Shit.

Hating the way the euphoria was fading from his fingertips, Slade gave her a pronounced glare and drawled, "Do you _really_ want to know, Raven?"

This threw her off. She blinked stupidly at him, torn. Slade was right - he _did _know her, inside and out, now.

"That's what I thought."

But pride won out this time, and the girl straightened her shoulders and said that yes, she did._  
><em>

Well, Slade had known she'd figure it out sometime or another. But he didn't want to tell her about his current, ah, _condition. _Jesus Christ.

"Quite frankly," he replied cooly, carefully. "As of now, you are the only thing that takes away a particular aliment of mine."

To his surprise, Raven's eyes widened. "You..." she sputtered, disbelief wrenching her pretty little face. "You too?"

_Too?_ What did she mean, _too?_ As of now, Raven was very much alive. What could possibly be haunting _her?_

Besides, well, him.

He tilted his head. "Elaborate."

Immediately, Raven's guard went up, shutting off any hint of an answer. "Why should I tell _you?_ _This_ is all _your_ fault!"

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'don't shoot the messenger?'"

"Believe me, firearms are going to be the _least_ of your worries."

Slade pondered this, then shrugged amicably. "Try," he invited her. "If you haven't noticed by now, I'm more _durable, _thanks to your father. But if you attempt to torture me, you're not going to get an answer, and neither will I."

Oh, how he could _feel _her loathing for him. It was...well, cute. Like a child throwing a tantrum, or a dog who was begging for a treat.

Even if she was the most tempting thing to him in a long, long time, for so many different reasons _he_ himself could barely understand.

Raven clenched her jaw, mental flailing obvious. What must it be like, to be a person of morals? Certainly boring, and most definitely cumbersome.

Eventually, Raven smoothed the side of her sleeves. Dimly, Slade noticed the marks had faded back into her flesh.

"When you touch me, I...I feel...nothing."

"Pardon?" Slade asked patiently, folding his arms.

She shot him a withering look. "If you are familiar at all with me, you understand why I _need_ to feel nothing."

Slade wanted to bark a laugh. "Dear girl, are you informing me that you've lost control of your powers?"

"No," Raven snapped, the saliva coating her teeth shining in the glare of the flames.

Slade thought this over, glancing behind her at a flock of four-eyed ravens, clouding over the red sun. Raven herself followed his gaze, initially curious, before snapping her vengeful eyes right back at him.

"Well," he finally said, "I am honored to be of service."

"You are a _lowlife_."

"Careful, dear girl."

They deadpanned one another, each wondering who hated the other more. Above them, the ravens cawed.

"It's almost morning," Slade finally said, glancing at the vision of the ruined Titan's Tower. It was always his favorite part of the hallucination. "Until we meet again, Raven."

Bits and pieces of the dream was beginning to fade, to chip away, all with Slade at the center. He saw the misery in her expression, the shock from their conversation, and the loathing she felt for him. All in all, Raven didn't seem to have many positive things going for her. Later, he would find out the Titans weren't doing too well either; Starfire had been rejected by a prejudiced alien, which, for one reason or another he was displeased with. Out of all the evil things he did, discrimination was not one of them. He punished everyone equally.

But what she'd told him, what that meant, Slade had absolutely no idea. Perhaps he would broach the subject with Trigon?

_Perhaps,_ he decided calmly, watching her large, expressive eyes disappear last.


End file.
